


Dead Last

by Heavenward (PreludeInZ)



Series: Thunderbirds Prompts [31]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Academics, Boarding School, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Scholasticating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:11:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreludeInZ/pseuds/Heavenward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fic from tumblr: For the prompt thing can u do Gordon and failure thinking he is a failure to Jeff because he not as smart as his bothers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dead Last

He's sat outside the principal's office and at least he's not crying, so that's something. Dad is inside, talking to the principal, two counselors, and the one or two teachers who still believed Gordon wasn't quite a lost cause, academically.

It's a private school. A _boarding_ school. It's expensive--everything in their lives is expensive--prestigious. His classmates are the children of some of the richest people in the world, and every last damn one of them is smarter than he is. Gordon is thirteen, and before mom had died it had been a tech school that they'd picked out together. He'd never been at the _top_ of the class, but he'd been solidly around the middle. Then Mom had died and the whole family had gotten all shuffled around, and somewhere along the line someone had said it made sense for the boys to start to try and get a little independence from one another. In Gordon's case, a little more structure. A little distance, because he needs to stop clinging onto Virgil.

So boarding school.

And now he's failing. Failing out of everything, dead last. Gordon had never thought about it before, how _someone_ has to be in that last spot, the spot on the bottom, the very worst. It makes him feel wormy and black and cold inside, knowing that it's _him_.

Oh well, _now_ he's crying a little.

And the door opens and that's a million times worse, because now there's Dad, and there's a certain way the door closes behind him that makes Gordon's chest collapse, like a fist has clenched around it.

He doesn't look up when his father's hand touches his shoulder, only shakes his head and rubs viciously at his eyes, sniffles hugely. A big ragged gasp slips out and then he barely stifles a sob.

The hand leaves his shoulder and returns a moment later, with a blue silk pocket square in Jeff's neatly trimmed fingers. "C'mon, kiddo," Jeff says quietly, and then he's crouched down to kneel in front of his son. "Hey, Gordy. Gordon, it's okay."

"D-did---'m I kicked out?"

"No, I'm withdrawing you. This isn't the right fit. That's all right."

Gordon still can't look at his father, so he crams the little square of silk against his face and mumbles into it. "I didn't _mean_ to fail everything."

"Well, they tell me you were doing pretty well with biology for a while."

"That's the _dumb_ science." He hadn't known that when he'd signed up. Virgil had told him to take Chemistry, because Virgil was a little bit in love with Chemistry. John had offered to tutor him if he switched to Physics, because John's always been a little bit unable to believe that not everyone just _gets_ physics. Gordon had just been fascinated by life and the whole idea of where it came from. He hadn't known that Biology was considered the lowest on the tier. Finding that out had sort of precipitated the slide out of barely passing.

"You're not stupid, Gordon," his father tells him, firmly and assuredly, contradicting the thing that Gordon's grown sure about over the past two terms. "We know that. You've been in other schools and done fine, we know you're perfectly capable. This is just the wrong environment for you. So we're going to find something else."

"I'm sorry."

Jeff puts his hand on Gordon's shoulder again, coaxes him up out of the chair. His arm stays securely around his son's shoulders, that sort of halfway almost-hug, their sides pressed tight together. "It wasn't your mistake. C'mon, kiddo. We're going to go get burgers and shakes and then we're going to foget about this place. Do the year over. Their athletics programs leave a lot to be desired, anyway, and you've always been at your best when there's a better outlet for competition. I should've thought of that before."

The blue square of silk gets Gordon's nose blown into it and he finally manages to meet his father's eyes. "It's really not my fault?"

Jeff's smiling and he ruffles Gordon's hair, gives him a nudge as they start towards the front door from the school's main hall. "Not at all. We'll start looking at places out on the coast. John's got another year and half to go at Stanford, he's got an apartment. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you wanted to stay with him."

The phrase _oil and water_ crosses Gordon's mind, but it's followed shortly by _boys' dormitory_ and so he manages a grin. "Me and John'd kill each other."

Jeff's snort of laughter makes Gordon's grin widen, because his dad knows he's not wrong. "John's a bit more mellow about college than he was about highschool. He's happier now that he's in his own space."

It occurs to Gordon that he hasn't actually spent any time with John in almost three years, and maybe Dad's got a strange sort of point. "Yeah...yeah maybe."

"Excellent swim teams, too, out on the coast. Used to be we couldn't get you out of the pool back home. Your mother always thought it'd be a good idea. Follow in her...uh...butterfly strokes."

As the doors swing open and the New England spring sunshine glints off Jeff's BMW, Gordon's intrigued for the first time. "Yeah," he nods again, and when he takes the steps down, he takes them two at a time. "Yeah, we should definitely talk about _that_."


End file.
